


Wanna Keep Burning

by Naomida



Series: Fire Meet Gasoline [9]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomida/pseuds/Naomida
Summary: Lidya felt like she was in the middle of a time warp. She could feel every particle of air move around her, could feel her temperature slowly drop down, she could feel every single one of her muscles move and work as she raised her hand, torn between slapping her mother in the face or admitting that she had been thinking the exact same thing since she had gotten the news, and she watched the arcane sparkle in her hand for a heartbeat, right before she was teleported away.





	Wanna Keep Burning

“Ugh, fuck,” breathed Lidya, smiling when Varian laughed softly at that.

They were both naked, with Lidya half laying on top of him while he gave shallow thrusts that were starting to drive her crazy, their lips brushing every three thrusts or so, and while she _knew_ she couldn’t be loud because of the guards on the other side of his door, she was also caring less and less about being discreet – especially when he changed his angle _just so_ and she had to violently bit down on her lips to keep from making too much noise, Varian shuddering under her as her blunt nails raked down his chest.

“I love you,” he panted, kissing her cheek and her chin.

She was the one shuddering this time as she looked down into his eyes through the low light of the bedroom.

She had never thought that she’d end up in his bed, hearing him say those words to her while she was laying naked on top of him. She had never thought she would get to see him smile like he was either, or that she would know what it was like to fall asleep and wake up in his arms, and she wasn’t chagrined at all to now know what it was like. Quite the contrary.

“I love you too,” she replied against his lips before kissing them, tasting the curve of his smile with the tip of her tongue.

She did – she _really_ did, and looking down at him, it was suddenly almost too much, her chest filled with _so_ much feelings, she pressed her face against his throat before she could make a fool of herself and start crying.

Varian seemed to sense it, because he wrapped his arms more firmly around her and got into a faster rhythm.

Afterwards, once Varian had forced her to roll away so he could clean them both and she had rolled back on top of him as soon as he had flopped on the bed next to her again, they just laid in silence, Lidya’s fingers running up and down his left arm and shoulder while Varian’s hands did the same on her back.

“You’re starting the assault this week,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes.”

“You’ll finally kill Gul’dan.”

She craned her neck to meet his eyes and nodded.

“How do you feel?”

“Like the past few years weren’t for nothing, after all,” she replied, letting go of his arm to gently trace his jaw, eyes leaving his to look at what she was doing.

She remembered daydreaming about doing just that during tiring afternoons in Tanaan’s humidity, when Varian had been looking at her with messy hair and furrowed brows while she told him everything she knew about the Iron Horde.

All those afternoons she had spent with him had felt like a curse and a blessing at the same time, but she was glad they had happened. It was how they had gotten to know each other, how they had learned to trust each other, how they had become friends.

She didn’t think they’d be where they were right this instant if it wasn’t for those humid afternoons.

“We’re waiting for the Illidari to give us the okay to go,” she said, tracing his lower lip with her thumb before cupping the side of his neck, feeling his pulse under her palm, strong and steady, just like him. “It shouldn’t take more than a week – Elisandre’s forces have an army, but they don’t expect us to have one of our own too.”

“My order still stands,” replied Varian, taking his turn to run his thumb over her cheek and jaw, his other fingers tangles in the hair at the back of her head, “you _will_ come back to me.”

She nodded, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“There’s no way I’m going anywhere now that I can finally have this,” she said, fingers of her free hand brushing down his ribs.

He suppressed a giggle but smiled brightly, and she already knew what he wanted to do, meeting his lips halfway and pressing him down against the mattress.

  


  


***

  


  


Léria was in the middle of a prayer, healing Lidya and three warlocks who had all received spells from the back during their last fight, when Ilana stepped to their group and looked down at Lidya.

“We’re ready to go, Khadgar managed to activate the orb?”

Nodding, Lidya got up from her sit on the ground, squeezed her sister in her arms, closing her eyes for a second while Léria murmured a blessing into her ear, before she was following Ilana.

They walked past the Archdruid, who had been glaring at Ilana ever since the two of them had seen each other before they had all entered the Nighthold, and while Lidya was curious about what exactly was happening there, she also had decided that it was a question best asked once they were all safe and sound, back in Dalaran.

Khadgar was already waiting for them with the Highlord Ariah and the Warlord, a short red skinned orc who looked like he was constantly biting into a lemon, and Lidya waited patiently and in silence, much like Ilana next to her, for the other champions to arrive.

It had taken them four days to get to this point and she couldn’t wait for it to end. Everyone was tired and starting to struggle, and Lidya could feel the weight of Illidan’s soul in Khadgar’s pocket from the other side of the room, which didn’t help. She hoped they wouldn’t be too late – she’d never forgive herself if they failed in stopping Gul’dan.

  


  


***

  


  


A good number of things had taken Lidya’s breath away during all her years as an adventurer – the raw power of Malygos, the beauty of Pandaria, the sight of the Iron Horde army waiting on the other side of the portal, Kil’jaeden in the Sunwell – but nothing had been quite like seeing Illidan come back to life in front of her very eyes and murder Gul’dan with only one hand.

Lidya just gaped for a while at the demon hunter, barely registering the growing chatter around her, or the Illidari’s excited babble in demonic as they joined their leader, or even Khadgar talking to her – until he put his hand on her shoulder and she forced herself to meet his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“He stole my kill,” she replied, pouting slightly as Khadgar huffed a laugh and turned to the black traces on the floor – the only remains of Gul’dan.

“I’m sad we didn’t get to finish it ourselves, but I’m glad he’s finally gone.”

“Me too,” she replied, looking down at the traces too, a strange feeling taking over her.

The relief was strong, but there was also something bitter at the back of her throat. She had a bad feeling, like now that Gul’dan was finally dead, something worse was going to happen – and it made her shiver in dread, because thinking back on all she had witnessed in Draenor, she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

“Come on people!” called Khadgar before she could think about it more, “time to go home!”

The rest of their forces would stay back for a while to make sure Thalyssra’s army could take care of the rest of Elisandre’s, but Lidya couldn’t say she wasn’t glad to be able to go back to Dalaran. She was already imagining a hot bath, and something to eat other than conjured mana food, and Varian, probably. She hoped she’d be able to sneak him into her room for the night – it was hard to get rid of all this after battle adrenaline by herself.

Starting to smile, Lidya threw another glance at Illidan, who was listening closely to something Ilana was telling him, nodding ever so slightly every few seconds. There was a grin on Ilana’s usual grim expression, and Lidya knew how much it meant to her to bring him back. She had traveled the world and taken on _so many_ dangerous foes just to get fragments of souls, hoping to find the right one, and Lidya was happy to see her best friend succeed.

Illidan and Ilana both turned to her at the same time and Lidya smiled at them, eyes following Ilana as she started walking to her.

“I told him he stole your kill,” she said.

“I’m glad you remembered it was _mine_ ,” replied the archmage before starting to cast a mass teleportation spell when Khadgar gave her the signal. “And I’m happy for you.”

Ilana’s smirk turned into a smile right before they were all taken to Krasus Landing.

  


  


***

  


  


Varian was here. That was the first thing Lidya noticed: his gray eyes searching through their group before falling on her, relief melting his usual frown. She smiled and he smiled back, and in the middle of the excited chatter and joy, because apparently half of the city had come, she joined him and slid her hand into his, pressing their palms together.

“Your Majesty,” she smirked as his thumb gently stroked her knuckled.

“Archmage,” he replied, the intensity in his eyes making her feel as if her insides were melting.

He looked like he usually did right before he was pressing her against a flat surface and kissing the breath right out of her, but it was the middle of the day in the middle of the Landing, with more people than Lidya had ever seen here at the same time, and she knew that no matter what, Varian wouldn’t do it in front of them.

“I’m glad you are here to welcome me back,” she said.

He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you came back.”

Something fragile passed over his features as the crowd around them moved and he was forced to take a step in her direction, and she laced her fingers with his, heart squeezing in the most delicious way when it brought some color to his cheeks and he ducked his face to hide his shy smile.

“I love you,” she murmured in orcish, because she knew he spoke the language and the alliance soldiers around them probably didn’t.

His smile grew bigger and Lidya watched as he opened his mouth to reply.

“ _Incoming_!” yelled someone with a panicked voice before he could, and as one everyone on the Landing turned in the direction of the voice, facing the Broken Shore.

Lidya’s heart skipped a beat. She watched as ships appeared, one after the other, ready to fire on Dalaran.

She got on her tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd, and managed to meet Khadgar’s panicked eyes.

She _couldn’t_ believe this was happening.

She simply could not.

“Kirin Tor!” yelled someone else from the other side of the Landing.

Several battle mages immediately started moving, and Lidya turned back to Varian, ready to do the same.

He squeezed her fingers one last time and gave her a small nod, his frown firmly back in place and his hand trailing out of hers as she took a step back.

She nodded back before turning around and determinedly making her way through the crowd to Khadgar and a towering Illidan – who somehow was managing to frown even harder than Varian.

Lidya could already tell that this was going to be a _very_ long day.

  


  


***

  


  


“I can’t remember what sleeping feels like,” sighed Lidya in the empty room, her voice echoing strangely.

All the fel in the air was starting to make her feel nauseous and dizzy and she had never been more thankful for a paladin up until now.

Ariah, the Highlord, brushed past her, her Light melting the sticky feeling of fel just for a moment, and Lidya turned to send a look at their healer.

The Grandmaster was a tiny pandaren man who barely spoke Common or Orcish, hadn’t joined any faction and was simply happy to heal people and drink until passing out. Lidya liked him, and it broke her heart to see the look in his eyes when he got up from his kneeling next to the troll shaman who had come with them and shook his head.

They had lost him.

“Are you sure Khadgar’s forces can hold the Cathedral?” murmured Ilana next to her, looking at the dead shaman too.

“They have to,” replied Lidya, trying to swallow down the weight lodged in her throat. “Where is Illidan?”

“He’s still up there. Maiev is running around like a fool trying to keep up.”

“We just need to hold on a little bit longer.”

“And then we’ll sleep,” sighed Ilana.

“Yeah.”

They quickly realized they wouldn’t get any sleep for a while as soon as Illidan and Maiev joined them and Khadgar’s image appeared in front of them.

“I’m sorry, we lost. They pushed us back.”

He sent a quick guilty look Lidya’s way, which had her heart skip a beat as a _bad_ feeling sunk into her chest.

“What’s happening?” she asked, taking a step up, but his image simply disappeared.

Everyone was frowning at her when she turned back, but no one said anything and they went on fighting.

It took them a while, but they managed to get out of there successful and alive, and Illidaris with felbats were waiting outside to take them back to Deliverance Point.

Lidya knew that something was very wrong the second she stepped off her bat.

Everyone was looking at her and there was what looked like a sea of fallen soldiers’ bodies on the ground, lined next to each other.

She swallowed with difficulty and took a step, panic filling her chest when a tauren inclined his head at her, his ears drooping.

 _I haven’t lost anyone_ , she firmly told herself despite the slight tremor in her fingers. The only people she loved who had been in immediate danger were Ilana, Khadgar and Varian. She knew _for sure_ two of them were alive, although Khadgar didn’t look at her as she arrived in front of him.

She _couldn’t_ think about what it meant. She refused to. She had only just gotten him, had just _saved_ him from the Legion on this very island, had just started to _really_ get to know him. They hadn’t had any time, to do _anything_. The Alliance wasn’t ready to lose him, and she was even less prepared.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and Lidya looked up at Ilana through tears of utter panic, feeling like her heart was going to implode with how tight it felt. She swallowed through the knot in her throat, lower lip wobbling, and turned back to Khadgar.

“What’s going on?” asked Ilana in her stead when the Archmage didn’t look at them. “What happened while we were in that Cathedral?”

Khadgar grimaced, looking pained, shoulders dropping and his knuckles white with his tight grip on Atiesh.

“I am so sorry,” he murmured, before turning his back to them.

Lidya and Ilana exchanged a look, the human already shaking slightly while the demon hunter frowned.

“What _the fuck_ happened?”

Feeling a little desperate, especially when no one replied, Lidya got on her tiptoes and tried looking for Varian though the crowd, convinced, down to her very core, that he couldn’t be dead.

Not so soon.

An undead man with a limp and gray robes walked to her, clutching a big staff in his left hand, but Lidya ignored him, heart missing a beat when she caught sight of dark long hair sticking out of the crowd.

 _It’s him_ , she thought, catching another glimpse as he navigated through the crowd, a smile pulling at her lips and every muscle of her body relaxing with relief.

“My condolences,” said the undead man, and for a second Lidya almost didn’t realize that he was talking to her.

She frowned, turned to look at him and seized him up.

She knew him, but she couldn’t remember from where.

“I know how great of a loss it it,” he said, as Lidya’s eyes fell to his staff. “The two of you were very close, from what I gathered, and I wanted to express my sincerest–”

“You’re the High Priest,” she cut him.

“I am.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I knew your sister very well?”

“My sister is in Dalaran, don’t talk about her like she’s gone.”

He sent her a pitying and sad look, and Lidya, who had thought only a minute before that losing Varian was the worst thing that could happen to her, realized that she had been wrong.

“No,” she barked, taking a step back, pulse starting to race, temperature rising.

The High Priest looked over his shoulder instead of replying, and Lidya immediately regretted following his gaze.

Laying down on the floor, with half of her face burnt, was Léria, her little sister.

Lidya shimmered to her side without even thinking, falling to her knees next to her, feeling numb and shocked and desperate and angry and so many other things, all at the same time.

She gently reached up to touch her sister’s left shoulder, looking down at her pale face and closed eyes, and for a second the buzzing in her ears was so loud, she couldn’t hear anything as her sight got blurry and her heart finally broke for good.

She started screaming after the first few tears, sobbing loudly and yelling Léria’s name, like it was going to change a thing – like it would somehow bring her back, take Lidya instead of her.

Pressing her face against Léria’s shoulder, she gripped her dirty robes and cried hard enough that it hurt, hysterical noises escaping her. Something or someone was pulling her away, but she held on to Léria for dear life, her entire universe shattering even as she begged for her to wake up.

The broad hands on her arms held on tighter and manager to pull her away and turn her around, before she was being cradled into a familiar embrace, and Lidya finally stopped yelling to just sob, gripping Varian’s chest plate as he gently rocked her from side to side and made comforting sounds against her ear.

“Please, baby,” he murmured, his breath feeling cool against her ear, “you need to calm down.”

“I can’t,” she managed between loud sobs, shaking her head.

He held her closer and tighter, like that would make a difference.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya woke up slowly.

For a moment she stayed perfectly still, listening to the sound of her own breathing, the rustling leaves outside and small noise of someone moving around in the next room.

Something jumped on the bed next to her feet and she looked down at the white kitten she had gotten and forced Varian to keep, feeling empty.

Léria was dead, and Lidya wasn’t sure how she could live in a world without her sister.

“Hey,” gently said Varian, walking into the bedroom from the bathroom, a soft smile on his lips and worry wrinkling his forehead.

“Hey.”

He sat down next to her on the bed, hand stroking the kitten when it went on his lap, and they just looked at each other for a while.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” murmured Lidya after a while.

“You’ll keep going.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I’ll help you. And Ilana. Khadgar, Anduin, Genn. You need need time, and we’re all willingly giving it to you.”

“What about the Legion?”

“Our army can hold on for a few days without you,” he said, his smile leaning this side of amused, before he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Lidya wrapped her arms around his shoulders and didn’t let him go for a while.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya was forcing herself to eat diner at the Keep two days later when Anduin slipped next to her and grabbed an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table.

Lidya put her fork down, watched him just hold on to the fruit and look at it intensely, and she waited.

“It might not be the best of times to ask this, but how long have you and my father...”

“Not long,” she replied. “Why?”

“I’m happy for him.”

“All those balls payed off,” she joked, and Anduin looked up at her with a snort.

“He’s been in love with you for years, you know.”

Lidya nodded, although Varian and her hadn’t talked about it yet. She didn’t know what “years” meant – was it since their time on Draenor, or before that, in Pandaria, or even before that? She didn’t ask, because she wanted to hear it directly from Varian, once he was ready.

“I’m sorry for your sister,” added the King after a while, and Lidya looked down at her plate, the lump growing in her throat every time she thought about it still here. “I’m here if you need to talk to someone.”

“I’ll probably take you up on that offer later this morning,” she replied.

Anduin replied with a sad smile and a squeeze of her shoulder.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya met up with her family at the Cathedral quarter. She was wearing a gorgeous embroidered black dress Varian had gotten her out of nowhere the day before, with absolutely no accessory except for her Shard of the Exodar.

She had left Felo’melorn in Varian’s bedroom and felt naked without it – and lonely without him. He had been her rock those past two days and she knew she couldn’t face her family by herself.

 _Léria would want me to be strong_ , she thought as she joined her three sisters and her parents.

Melina hugged her and didn’t let go, and for a moment Lidya closed her eyes, trying to will the sudden tears in them away, unable to stop herself from thinking that she would never be able to do so with Léria ever again.

Once her sister had let her go and Lidya had hugged Saya and Oriana and received a quick kiss on the head from her father, she turned to her mother and met the coldest eyes she had seen since the Lich King.

“Mom...” she murmured, feeling her fire die out a little more when her mother glared harder and made a disgusted pout.

“This is your fault Lidya,” she said, voice breaking on the last word as she pointed an accusing finger in her direction. “She always looked up to you and wanted to follow into your step, and now look where it’s gotten her!”

Several pairs of eyes turned in their direction as Lidya’s mother raised her voice, but neither of them paid any attention, Lidya too busy trying not to cry and her mother too angry.

“ _You_ should have been the one we bury today, _not her_!” she yelled, and for a moment time stopped.

Lidya felt like she was in the middle of a time warp. She could feel every particle of air move around her, could feel her temperature slowly drop down, she could feel every single one of her muscles move and work as she raised her hand, torn between slapping her mother in the face or admitting that she had been thinking the exact same thing since she had gotten the news, and she watched the arcane sparkle in her hand for a heartbeat, right before she was teleported away.

  


  


***

  


  


Wearing absolutely nothing but a dress specially in her possession for her to assist to her little sister’s funeral, Lidya didn’t have a lot of options.

Still, she chose the stupid one.

Riding an azure waterstrider, she left Deliverance Point, eyes lost on the horizon and the gray waves, steering her mount away from the debris of the first fight to have happened there, mind absolutely blank and a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

She knew she was doing something stupid, having no weapon or armor or an ounce of common sense, but that didn’t sop her from sliding off the waterstrider once she felt like she was far enough from the shore, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into the ocean, feeling weightless for a moment as the water closed down on her.

She sunk, feeling all the weight pressing down on her disappear a little more after each feet taking her away from air. Gone were her responsibilities to the Tirisgarde, people’s expectations of her, the hidden meaning behind every single one of Khadgar’s glances and words.

Gone, everything.

She was left with nothing but the silence inside of her, and the cold water of the sea.

Her lungs were starting to burn by the time she touched down at the bottom of the sea, and she finally opened her eyes, squinting through the darkness and murky water, wondering for a moment if she was hallucinating when she caught sight of the soft glimmer of Light, and she started swimming in that direction.

  


  


***

  


  


She was dripping wet by the time her waterstrider reached the beach again, and Ilana was standing on the sand, waiting for her. There was a small pile of dead demons a few meters away, probably a patrol the Illidari had taken care of, and Lidya kept her eyes on them as she slid off the giant bug.

“What are you doing, exactly?” asked her best friend.

The archmage wished she could answer that question, but she had absolutely no idea herself.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she asked instead.

“I came to check up on you,” said Ilana, looking away from her for a moment.

She seemed pensive, and while Lidya couldn’t exactly be sure, it looked like Ilana was staring off into the distance, which was unusual.

“Everyone knows about what happened, don’t they?” she asked, and the demon hunter snorted.

“Not everyone yet, but give it a day or two.”

Rolling her eyes, Lidya patted the waterstrider’s flank, indicating it to go back to its master in Deliverance Point, and joined Ilana’s side, looking back at the sea too.

“I wish I had known her longer,” said Ilana, voice soft, as she gently slid her hand into Lidya’s and just held it.

“You would have been the best of friends,” replied the archmage, wrapping her fingers around Ilana’s too. “She was just like me, but better.”

Ilana squeezed her fingers once, but didn’t say anything nor look away from the horizon.

“If there’s something you need to tell me,” she went on when it was clear the Illidari wasn’t going to speak up, “go ahead, now’s the time.”

“This is about your sister, not mine.”

“So my instincts were right.”

“Yeah,” sighed Ilana, squeezing her fingers again, but this time Lidya was pretty sure it was to reassure herself, “Cary is my sister.”

Lidya had no idea how, out of all the druids that could have been chosen to become the new Archdruid, it was Ilana’s sister who had had the honor, but she wasn’t about to comment on it.

“You have enough on your mind, you don’t need to hear about my family troubles,” she added, trying to take her hand away from Lidya’s, but the archmage held on and met her eyes straight on when Ilana turned to face her.

“My sister’s dead, I’m not getting better any time soon.”

“I know.”

“Good. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t use that as an excuse.”

Ilana nodded, just once, before suddenly taking Lidya into her arms, holding her close and slightly bending down to put her chin on her shoulder.

She murmured something in Darnassian into her ear, and while she didn’t understand the words, Lidya understood the sentiments, and as if a dam had finally broken, she started loudly sobbing against her shoulder, curling her fingers into her armor while Ilana just held on to her, as strong and unflinching as ever.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya walked into the Keep much later in the evening, pretending she couldn’t see the weird looks she was getting from the guards as she walked down the long highway that would take her to the throne room.

She wasn’t expecting to find Anduin sitting alone in the dark on his throne, but she still bowed and waited in silence while he got up and joined her.

They started walking in silent agreement, Lidya letting him lead the way as he took a hallway she had never visited before, his sole presence enough to make her feel a little better.

For a while they just walked in silence, Lidya’s eyes traveling from painting to painting, and she couldn’t help but be reminded of the only time she had done the exact same thing.

She didn’t think she would go back to Redridge and her family anytime soon – and it hurt.

“I found something,” she said, just to get her thoughts off of it, reaching into her dress’ left pocket and taking the broken and wet compass she had found.

They stopped walking and something dark passed over Anduin’s face as she handed it to him.

Gently, he opened it, looking at the faded out portrait of himself Lidya had seen when she had first grabbed it, and for a second he got teary and his lower lip wobbled.

“I found it at the bottom of the ocean,” she said when Anduin didn’t move.

“You shouldn’t give it to me, it’s not mine,” he replied, looking up and closing it again, his hand still held out.

Lidya wrapped her hands around his instead of taking it.

“He’s with us,” she said, making sure to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

Nodding, Anduin blinked as more tears appeared in his eyes.

“Thank you for saving him,” he murmured.

Lidya gave him a nod and kept the compass even as Anduin slid his hand away from hers.

“He’s in his office, trying not to worry too much,” said the King after sniffing, “you should go see him.”

“He’s sleeping in Dalaran tonight,” she warned, and Anduin breathed a small laugh.

“Just give him back to me in one piece tomorrow before lunch, and we’ll be fine.”

Lidya nodded and managed a smile.

  


  


***

  


  


Varian had an arm thrown over her waist and was breathing little snores against her shoulder the next morning when Lidya woke up.

For a moment she just looked down at him, at his shadowed jaw, at his slightly parted full lips, at his nose and all his hair falling on the rest of his face and hiding it from view.

She gently brushed it away, smoothing his left eyebrow with a thumb when he frowned at the gesture, heart squeezing deliciously in her chest, a warm feeling spreading in her rib cage and spilling down along her belly and legs, all the way to her toes.

Her thumb left his eyebrow to gently caress a scar on his naked shoulder. He had gotten it during a sparring session, and while he hadn’t given her more details, she knew how to read between the lines – a young Bolvar had been as reckless as a young Varian, they had laughed it off and gone on.

She couldn’t see them from her position, but she knew almost all of his visible scars, by now, and it was still hard to believe sometimes that a man with his history could now be so loving and warm. Anduin was mostly responsible for that, but she knew those qualities had never totally left him to begin with.

She hoped she could keep a tender heart too, once the war was over and she had some time to breath and look at the wreckage.

For a while she just stared at him, mind empty.

 _I need to go back out there again_ , she thought morosely, before kissing Varian’s forehead and slowly sliding out of the bed, making sure not to wake him.

She took a quick shower in her private bathroom and went back to the bedroom to put her armor on, keeping her movements slow and mindful, as if not thinking about anything else could make the rest go away.

Once she was completely dressed except for her cape and gloves, she turned to face the chest of drawers sitting opposite the bed, and slowly made her way to it.

Felo’melorn was resting on top of the furniture, like usual. It was emitting a soft orange glow, and even without touching it Lidya could feel the sword calling out to her inner flame.

Too bad that flame had died the last time she had seen her sister.

Looking away, Lidya’s eyes fell on the other weapon she had put down on the chest of drawers.

She hadn’t touched Ebonchill since that time she had almost drowned fighting nagas, and the last time she had been seriously fighting with ice instead of fire, she had been traveling through Outland with two draenei, but for some reason she felt more drawn to it now than ever.

She could almost hear Archmage Draerin’s encouraging words in her head, from all the times he had tried to make her switch to frost, and she couldn’t help a bitter smile.

It seemed it took the people closest to her drying for her to change her ways.

She reached for the staff, but stopped herself after only a heartbeat.

She had been so focused on her fire, she hadn’t practiced her frost in _years_ , and if her flames hadn’t been enough to keep demons from killing her sisters and dozens and dozens of other people, what could a blizzard do? Archmage Modera and Lady Jaine were the only other frost mages Lidya knew and looked up to, and it had taken _them_ years to master it. What if Lidya failed? What if she grabbed that staff, got out into the world, and was killed within minutes because she was too weak?

All she had done, only to die from a stupid mistake.

 _It’s not like I have other options_ , she thought as noise came from the bed. Her flame was completely extinguished. She had tried the night before and all she could manage was set fire to the logs in her hearth, and that was it. She couldn’t fight like this, couldn’t win that war, and the icy fury spreading a little more in her chest after each day only made that clearer.

“Lidya?” asked Varian from behind her.

He sounded fragile, and like he was walking on eggshells, and when Lidya turned around and met his eyes, finding him sitting among the wrinkled covers in the middle of her bed, hair a mess and eyes still slightly puffy and unfocused from sleep, she took her decision.

“Light...” she murmured, the tiniest of smile pulling at her lips, “I love you, you know.”

He smiled, although he looked a little confused, and nodded.

“What are you doing?” he asked, raising a hand to rub at his eyes.

“I thought I’d try something new,” she replied, before turning back to her chest of drawers and grabbing Ebonchill, immediately feeling something settle deep into her chest.

Varian looked a lot more awake when she turned back to him, but he wasn’t frowning and his eyes were glinting just _this_ side of hopeful.

“Are you sure?”

Lidya nodded and he smiled.

“Good. I’ll get dressed and we can train together.”

“Okay,” she replied, watching as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom, feeling for the first time in a week like things might actually get better at some point.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this oneshot planned for a very long time and it's only fate that made me respec into my absolute favorite spec ever, frost, around the same time as this oneshot takes place.
> 
> Also, not going to lie, I'm feeling so discouraged by the lack of comments, it took me 4 months to post this story (this is a subtl way of asking you to comment).


End file.
